Trials in Love
by IWorkedToLongToWasteThisDegree
Summary: Vishnal and Frey overcoming the trials in that come upon them, some darker things, but lots of sweet sappy moments to balance it all out
1. Chapter 1

Vishnal absentmindedly hummed a song he had heard Meg playing a few nights back as he dusted the ornaments on the mantle. His mind was only half on the task; he kept glancing out the window to watch Frey as she worked in her garden. Frey was an unusual Princess, to say the least. She spent hours tending her crops, and making rounds around the town to talk to the townspeople. She genuinely cared about the people around her, and not just the wealthy people like Arthur, or the talented like Porcoline, the town's famous chef. She was even kind and friendly toward the shop keeps, the random tourists in town, even a simple butler's apprentice such as himself. Perhaps it was because she hadn't been born royal, but was raised to the title. Or, more likely, it was just her good heart and friendly nature. Either way, Vishnal found himself more and more drawn to her. In most circumstances, he would scold himself for entertaining the notion of romance with his master—his dream was to become an elite butler, and butlers just don't fall in love with their masters; it wasn't considered proper!- but with Frey… well she was such an unusual princess that he felt he might at least have a small chance. If he was completely honest with himself, his dreams of being closer with Frey might even be taking a stronger hold in his mind than his dreams of being the best butler that the people of Selphia had ever seen. After all, in some ways being Princess Frey's lover might be more realistic – he was clumsy and a horrific cook – both which were impediments to becoming an elite butler, no matter how much he tried. But he and Frey were close friends despite their differences in rank. When she first came to the castle, overwhelmed by the new tasks and responsibilities thrust upon her, she had often sought him out to talk to. Sometimes he even thought she might share his feelings. But he just wasn't confident enough that someone of her rank could love someone like him.

He shook his sky blue hair for a moment, trying to clear his mind of the daydreams and refocus on the task at hand. There were still several tasks to finish this morning, and he couldn't afford to slow down. As he refocused on cleaning the mantle, he didn't notice that Frey was joined in the garden by Volkanon, the imposing head butler of the castle, or the serious look on Volkanon's face as he spoke to the princess.

Within a few minutes Vishnal had finished with the dusting and moved on to the castle's kitchen. His cooking was abysmal and usually ended in something inedible and burnt, but the floors and cabinets needed a good scrub and cleaning was his specialty. Just as he picked up the broom to begin sweeping, a dark shadow loomed in the doorway.

"Vishnal! Come to my office immediately!" Volkanon's voice boomed with authority and anger.

Vishnal jumped in shock, dropping the broom. His mind raced as he wondered what misstep he had made today to earn him a lecture from the imposing head butler. He hadn't even tried to cook anything today! Meekly, he bowed his head and murmered, "yes, sir," as he followed the older man to his office.


	2. Chapter 2

"Close the door!" Volkanon barked at him.

Vishnal took a breathe to steady his nerves as he quietly shut the door and turned to face Volkanon's wrath.

"How could you be so careless! This is the kind of mistake that can ruin a butler's career!" Volkanon boomed as he gestured to something on the floor behind him.

Vishnal felt all the blood drain from his face as he looked toward the offending item—it was Frey's shipping box, the one she carefully packed all her crops in before they were picked up for ship-oh no, oh no! Vishnal thought his knees might give out as his whole body trembled. He had been supposed to pick up the box for shipment yesterday morning! The box was broken and Frey's lovingly tended, valuable produce was wilted and appeared to have been gnawed on by some pest. To say this was a disaster was an understatement.

"….not only has all her hard work gone to waste, but the loss of money, resources, and reputation with those who were expecting the delivery…" Volkanon was still yelling.

Vishnal wished the floor would open up around him. This was beyond a simple burnt dinner. How on earth could he have been so absentminded and careless? And Princess Frey… she must be furious with him. What if she sent him away? His mind reeled and he trembled just thinking about it. He'd do anything, anything at all, to make it up to her. He couldn't lose both his dreams at once, if she sent him away he'd never become a great butler. If she sent him away… he couldn't stand to be away from her…

"Well boy? What do you have to say for yourself? Answer me and don't make me repeat myself again." The pause in Volkanon's tirade finally caught Vishnal's attention.

"I—I'm…. s—sorry sir," Vishnal put an unsteady hand over his face, trying to hide the tears he was desperately holding back. He'd never been good at hiding his emotions.

Volkanon softened just a bit on noticing his apprentice's striken look, and brought his tone down.

"Vishnal, I know this was just a mistake, but it's a very serious one. Some masters would consider a mistake like this, resulting in the loss of so much work and valuable products to be tantamount to theft. Something like this cannot go unpunished," Volkanon tried to lay his hand on Vishnal's shoulder, but he flinched away, too lost in the terror of his own mind.

"W—what punishment has Princess Frey d—demanded for me?" Vishnal forced the words out.


	3. Chapter 3

"None. The Princess is quite merciful. And she has not demanded any punishment. However," Volkanon continued, "I would be amiss as your instructor if I let this grievous error go."

Vishnal could barely stand the flurry of emotions – elation that Frey wasn't so angry as to have him punished, concern over whether she might be angry despite that, and the rock in his stomach as he realized he wasn't off the hook yet.

"I'm sorry to do this, my boy, but you must understand and remember there are consequences for careless actions," Volkanon was no longer yelling, but his tone was deathly serious.

Vishnal swallowed hard—surely Volkanon wouldn't throw him out of the castle if Frey hadn't? Then he noticed the heavy leather strap that Volkanon had picked up, and his eyes went wide.

"… twenty strokes, much milder than most masters would demand. In fact my teacher would've…" Volkanon continued talking about how much harsher his teacher would've been, as Vishnal was finally processing his words.

Vishnal silently thanked the Divine Dragons that he wasn't going to be cast out of the castle. But he was still apprehensive about the upcoming punishment. _It's okay. I can handle this._ He mentally tried to talk himself through his nerves. _I'm just lucky I'm not being sent away, or flogged in the castle square. I'll still get to serve Frey and be a butler when this is all over with. By the Dragons! Did he just say 20 strokes? I've seen the man cut down a tree with a half dozen blows! I don't think…. NO! I can handle this! If this is what it takes to stay near Frey and be a butler, I'll endure anything!_ He carefully removed his jacket and shirt, as Volkanon told him to, and knelt with his back to the older man. _It's going to be fine, I can handle this. I'll be strong and won't even cry out…_ he clenched his jaw and bowed his head.

CRACK! The first stroke fell across his bare shoulders, and he shuddered. By the third stroke, silent tears filled his eyes and he doubled his resolve to take his punishment silently. By the fifth, his resolve shattered and a sharp gasp of pain escaped him.

…

It was all over in a few minutes, although Vishnal felt it was an eternity. He had managed to hold on to a scrap of his dignity and not beg or wail. He slowly eased his shirt and jacket back on.

"I'm sorry, Vishnal. But it had to be done," Volkanon told him, "Go to your quarters for a few hours and compose yourself. Then you're to repair Princess Frey's shipping box before you finish mopping the kitchen."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused. I'll be sure to finish my work," Vishnal assured the head butler as he turned and slowly made his was to his room.

As soon as he'd escaped to his room and shut his door behind him, he gingerly shrugged off his coat and shirt again. His back felt like fire, and the cloth rubbing against the welts was agony. Turning stiffly he tried to get a look at himself in the mirror. His cerulean hair was disheveled, his face pale. He craned his neck to try to see his back in the mirror – 20 angry red welts criss-crossed from shoulders to waist, already turning purple around the edges. Sighing, he eased himself down onto his bed, lying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillows. If only he wasn't so careless! He mentally berated himself. _Divine Dragons this hurts. And I completely deserve it. Why do I make so many careless mistakes? Princess may not have ordered the punishment but she's bound to be furious with me. I'm such a disgrace as a butler…_ _I'll never be an elite butler at this rate, and I'll never deserve Princess Frey's affections. I'm such a fool…_

The quiet click of the door opening startled him out of his grim musings.


End file.
